Addendum
by BarracudaHeart
Summary: Her mother's chances of recovery weren't impossible so she'd do what she could to entrust she got the best of care. No matter the cost. No matter the sacrifices she'd have to make herself. Sequel to Crosswalk. Special thank you to CoreyWW and his wife.


"How bad are her injuries?"

"They could be worse but they aren't good. Her wrist is fractured in a few places, her bones are brittle, and she hit her head on something during her fall, so the brain damage may have very well increased..."

Connie stared at her mother's assigned doctor in the eyes, gaze both steeled with focus and worry. She'd taken off her reading glasses, having folded them on her shirt's neck like she had as a child, before her dear friend had fixed her sight. Age was starting to cause vision issues again, but it was unavoidable, a part of growing up.

Swallowing hard, she then looked at her mother lying unconscious on the bed, wincing as she saw the bruise on the wrinkled brown skin across her forehead. If only Steven were still here, within contact- this wouldn't be an issue.

"I-is there anything you can do for her?"

"Aside from housing her here? Not really," the doctor admitted, "Our team isn't well equipped for stroke related brain injuries. I can refer you to a hospital in the next state over, they have a ward we can transfer her to-"

"Would they cover her insurance or waiver any payments for her?"

"I'm afraid not. Your insurance provider hasn't been covered by that county's hospitals in years, and since she's retired-"

Connie covered her mouth in thought, rubbing her jaw anxiously, already sensing the medical bills would be high.

"An invoice of the summary of expenses can be given to you as soon as we get her transferred, if you'd like that-"

"Yes, yes please," Connie whispered, still staring at her unconscious mother. She'd gotten the phone call from the hospital four days earlier, Priyanka was found by a neighbor, unconscious in her kitchen, she'd had a stroke and hit her head as she fell. Connie had immediately flown from five states over to see her, not wanting to chance waiting a day if that was all that was left. She made that mistake with her father a year earlier, by the time her plane had touched down in state, his heart had given up.

Her mother's chances of recovery weren't impossible so she'd do what she could to entrust she got the best of care. No matter the cost. No matter the sacrifices she'd have to make herself.

* * *

Her mother hadn't woken up yet once they'd transferred her to the new hospital. They said it might be days before she was lucid. Connie could accept that.

After examinations, they said she'd need surgery. Another addition to the bill. Connie could accept that too.

The doctor who specialized in patients like Priyanka wasn't in that day, they were called over to another hospital for a special case, they'd be in by the weekend. Connie could accept that as well.

Connie cried as she read the total on the invoice, pressing her face on her mother's bed.

* * *

He nearly about killed himself getting through medical school, both off and on his own accord. The stress of applying and reapplying over and over wore him out more than his remedial classes did, and he cursed himself for not taking high school more seriously. He was pretty certain he was one of the older students both in pre-med and medical school, and he'd been deathly terrified of failing any one of them.

There were nights where he was tempted to say 'fuck it' to everything and see if he could step out into traffic and be done. But then he realized he'd be fulfilling the same thing he did in high school; nothing. So he bit the bullet, and took it another day at a time.

He never made valedictorian, or even salutatorian but he managed to keep high enough grades to pass without being eyed poorly, and for him to get approved for a residency. For once he was going to be responsible for the wellbeing of other people besides himself, handling medications besides his own antidepressants.

He thinks it was during the middle of his second year of being a resident that everything finally started clicking, and he realized that he was actually doing something worthwhile with his life that wasn't just about himself. He started being more enthusiastic about going to work, and getting to help people. He was starting to get why Priyanka liked this so much.

He'd not spoken to her or her family ever since he'd moved. The circumstances weren't pleasant to reminisce over. His parents both became victims of a fatal plane crash less than two months after he turned 18. His aunt and uncle insisted he live with them across the country, explaining that he was still young and would need to be with family until he could get on his feet. He didn't even have time to thank the Maheswaran family for their sympathy and support, or to even say goodbye.

Maybe it was a psychological thing that prompted him to go into the medical field. He was guilty for dropping out of this family's life after everything they did for him, and what better to honor them than to go into their matriarch's field of practice?

But after thirty odd years were they even going to remember that?

He'd been finishing up with his patient at the ward in Empire city when he received a call from his stationed office of a new in-patient.

His breath caught as he heard the patient's name.

His nurse spoke up, "Lawrence? Are you alright?"

* * *

Connie had woken up in her chair by her mother's bedside, her usual spot for the last week. The old woman was still asleep, but by her head rested a folded invoice.

Wondering if another cost was added, Connie tensed herself, wondering if this was the payment that would make her sell her house.

She drew a breath in confusion as she saw all the large numbers listed were now replaced with columns of zeroes, leading to a grand total of zero dollars to be paid.

An addendum was placed at the bottom for Connie to read.

 _All expenses paid 30 years ago with sack lunches, warm meals, a warm bed, a family, and the motivation to be bigger than what could have ever been imagined._

 _All the best,_

 _Dr. Lawrence Cheng_

Connie dropped the invoice and hurried into the hall, almost immediately calling out "Lars?"

* * *

 _"Lars," Priyanka croaked flatly from her bed as she awoke conveniently in time to meet her new doctor._

 _"Hello, Priyanka, it's been a while hasn't it?", Dr. Cheng smiled._

 _"Since when did you become a doctor? "_

 _"A little over 15 years ago-", he began, then muttered to himself, checking her vitals again since she was awake. He was surprised she remembered him at all, having been guessing her massive stroke would have at least caused some memory loss._

 _"What happened? Why am I here?"_

 _"You had a stroke and you took a pretty bad fall," he explained, "I'm glad to see you're awake. We'll be able to see how much damage you took. If you can remember me after all these years, I'd say that's a good sign."_

 _"Of course I do. How could I ever forget those hideous piercings?"_

 _Dr. Cheng gave a laugh, and then sighed, "I hope you're not too upset with me leaving as I did-"_

 _"I understand, " she assured quietly, "I'm...just glad- just proud to see you here, where you are now."_

 _He smiled again and after explaining her injuries, he slipped a folded paper out of his pocket, "This is for your daughter when she wakes up," he pointed to Connie who was out cold in the chair._

 _"Right right," she mumbled wearily, "The poor thing, I'm probably costing her a fortune."_

 _He gave another smile, eyes twinkling, "Don't worry about that. She's going to be fine. Go back to sleep. Your surgery is tomorrow."_

* * *

 _Connie found his office, empty, but the lights on and the door open._

He'd never really gotten over his messiness, papers were scattered everywhere, and in unpolished stacks on the desk and on the floor. A bit of food garbage was overflowing from his wastebasket, and his computer looked like it was in need of a tune up.

He had his degrees on the wall, proudly hung between his graduation photos with his dumb cocky smiles and his photos of him with his own family, and newer photos showing his quasi-graceful descent into age. His hair had gotten grayer in spots, long enough to tie back, and he needed glasses, but they didn't hide the kindness in his dark wrinkle-edged eyes.

Memories came flooding back to her as she saw his first painting on the wall, the one he sold to the hospital after days of work on it in her family's garage. It sat among others he'd evidently done in his spare time, still as magnificent as when he first made it.

"Hi, Connie."

She turned and saw those same kind eyes from the photos , and her own eyes immediately watered.

He didn't even flinch as she choked out a sob and threw herself at him in a tight hug that he returned. She had caught her breath through her tears as she whispered to him.

 _"Thank you."_

* * *

 **This totally wasn't inspired by one of those melodramatic Thai life insurance commercials.**


End file.
